


Colour Morning.

by arnope



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arnope/pseuds/arnope
Summary: A certain kind of intimacy left deep within the unsaid between two common souls.
Relationships: He Cheng/Brother Qiu (19 Days)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Colour Morning.

There was never any good news to come by these days and the veterinarian did nothing to help change that. Though, He Cheng knew it was unfair of him to think so. The dog was going to die eventually. It had lived quite the happy, long life thus far despite everything that had surrounded it during. Yet, with such knowledge, there came a new problem that brought along the rather uncomfortable feeling of apprehension to knot in the pit of Cheng’s stomach. He would have to tell his brother, He Tian, soon lest the guilt fester and rot over inside of him.

With a quiet sigh, he exchanged his phone for a cigarette that he slipped between parted lips. The lighter clicked and the tip came alight, burning the ash as he inhaled the sweet smoke into his lungs for some semblance of relief. The morning was barely over, dragging its feet into noon and, with it, brought loud yelling of teenaged kids, echoing throughout the halls. No matter how large this house was, or how expansive the area around it proved to be, the kids were always heard, amplified without remorse. Cheng’s head leaned back, hitting the back of the couch as he exhaled a plume of smoke. He could not fault them for they deserved this kind of freedom. Tian, most of all, before their father came calling again.

He took another deep drag of the cigarette, exhaling the smoke around the bud before he stood, pulling upon his sleeves to straighten them out. There was no use in wasting away a day due to such thoughts after all, so he left the corner office. One of the assistants smiled at him as they passed each other in the hallway—off to do her work as he was supposed to do the same. Yet he stopped as a hoard of bare feet stomped upon polished wood, rushing to the front door to exit the house. More yelling, loud laughter…Cheng peeked around the corner to spy the four kids leaving in a rush before he searched to see if Qiu was there as well, only to come up empty.

Their departure made the silence of the house a rather stark contrast to what it had been before. Every single noise now amplified in Cheng’s ears, from the chirping of birds to the buzzing of an electric razor. Pivoting in his spot, he made his way towards the source of the latter and pushed open the door to one of the bathrooms. The white-haired Qiu hunched over the sink, grey eyes staring intently into the mirror while he navigated the razor across the top of his head. Shirtless, and fresh from the bath, the man’s fair skin blotched red from the heat of the water. Cheng’s eyes roamed the expanse before he noticed the razor had been shut off and those grey eyes were now staring back at him in question.

Stepping into the bathroom, Cheng closed the door behind him with a soft click before holding out his hand to Qiu. “Allow me,” he said. A small request that hid the sternness of an order underneath it that was unnecessary even if there was a negation on Qiu’s tongue. They both knew it would be futile to voice it. So, Qiu handed over the razor, put down the toilet cover, and sat upon it with a small huff of irritation at being stopped. Cheng merely smiled.

He turned on the razor, feeling the vibration in his hand before he stepped close. Qiu’s knees parted for him to slot himself between them, while he eyed the work in progress and what still needed to be cut down. He attempted to snuff out his cigarette into the sink to free up a hand, but Qiu stopped him from doing so and took it for himself to enjoy while Cheng worked. A task that was not so hard to do. With over a decade of seeing the man’s hair just about every day, Cheng had it memorized in his mind’s eye and so he began to move the razor down the top of the other’s head. Short, white strands dusted Qiu’s broad shoulders in the process.

“I half-expected you to be gone with Jian Yi,” Cheng murmured, tilting Qiu’s head to one side as he got the hair behind his ears, shaping it correctly into the half circle. He blew away the bits of hair that did not drop before moving to the next side, fingers light upon hot skin that barely contained the shiver.

“That was earlier,” Qiu said, deep voice as soft as a sigh. The man was relentless in trying to make the kid understand that he needed to learn how to protect himself, yet when it came to Jian Yi…most, if not all, of Qiu’s lessons went through one ear and right out the other. The effort was admirable and not without merit. “They wish to go out for a picnic today.” The sweet-smelling smoke drifted up from parted lips into Cheng’s eyes—he inhaled it instinctually. “Might just drop them off in the middle of nowhere and see how they fair then.”

Cheng gave a quiet, breathy chuckle, as he angled Qiu’s head down to get to the back and where it tapered off upon the nape. A more expert touch was needed, shaping the hair to the sharp lines the man liked. Tips of his fingers pressed upon Qiu’s flesh, soft as it were. “I see they have grown on you then.”

“Not in the slightest.”

A lie, but one that Cheng did not need verbal confirmation on. He merely gave a small, amused hum as he tilted Qiu’s head up, pinching his chin gently, to appreciate the job he had done when finished. No uneven patches and shaped just how it needed to be—perfection, as Cheng saw it with a hint of pride flashing across his countenance. He turned off the razor then, setting it onto the countertop before brushing the stray hairs away from Qiu’s shoulders and onto the heated tile floors. A moment that was allowed while Qiu hit the filter of the cigarette and stubbed it out in the sink by reaching over. But he soon stood to his full height right after, the last of the smoke billowing out of his mouth. Cheng did not step back. Their gazes were locked, even if Cheng had to lift his chin up just a bit to keep it as such. Once an irritation for they had been the same height in their youth, but Qiu had to shoot ahead just a bit more as if to prove a point. 

Close proximity often brought about souls to bare in the process. Qiu became more perceptive than was good for him in these moments. No matter how stony a face, or how stoic the silence proved. “You seem unhappy,” Qiu commented, uncaring if it was his place or not to say. There were ways to silence him, Cheng knew as his head gave a small tilt, eyes narrowing upon lips that were only a short reach away. Compassion from someone much akin to his own self felt impossible to attain: born of violence where caring denoted to weakness. As much as they shared, there was always that sort of barrier they had each built and was often dealt with through rough embraces and quiet looks which amounted to nothing deeper in the end.

Even still, Cheng stepped closer to feel the heat of the other’s body through the barest hint of contact. Qiu’s hand rose, pressing calloused fingers to Cheng’s bottom lip. A soft hitch in breath, barely noticed within the heavy silence. But it was only for a moment before it shattered by the homecoming of loud teenagers that never heard of volume control in their lives. Qiu then grabbed Cheng by the jaw and tilted his head to the side with less gentleness than expected. An apologetic press of soft lips, tickling against the juncture below his ear and creating a delicious chill down his spine. And then the knowing scrape of teeth dragged along the curvature, making knees grow weak. Just one more minute—

“The more you shoulder on your own, the harder you will break,” came Qiu’s murmured words hot upon his flesh. A searing reminder as Qiu slipped away, taking up his shirt from the countertop that he shrugged on in one swift movement. The only sounds Cheng had left of the man in his parting were of the jingle of car keys pulled forth from a pocket and the surprised shout of Jian Yi.

The house would grow quiet again, with it would bring empty reasons for distractions. Cheng's hand rose, brushing fingers along where Qiu's mouth had been before grimacing. "Too easy," he murmured to the dead air, giving one tap on his neck, before leaving the bathroom behind. There was much he needed to do today. Dwelling was for children.

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes u just gotta write something domestic for two people who probably murder a bunch idk


End file.
